


Aftermath

by RandomAdie (annelea)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 20:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15759069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annelea/pseuds/RandomAdie
Summary: A morning after for a virgin.Deciding on which fandom to continue this under, so for now it's in Original Works.





	Aftermath

She woke up to the feeling of his breath on her neck. He held her close, so close that she realized they should have cleaned up the night before. Things were.... sticky. The cold, she guessed, is what woke her in the first place. Her thighs and ass were particularly chilly now that the lack of a blanket exposed sticky wet skin to the window fan.

  
Everything was so hot the night before.

What changed?

His breath was still warm. His chest was warm against her back. His knee was a bit bony against her thigh. The arm he used to hold her close was a bit too tight.

What hurt worse was trying to move.

She hurt inside.

Suppressing a yelp of pain, she pried herself loose from his grip and wobbled to the bathroom. Peeing was her first priority once inside. That stung! Huffing, she just flushed it down. What was the point in wiping when she was just going to get in the shower and wash off anyway?

She stank of sweat and, dare she say it, cum. Her own, she could handle just fine. She'd mastrubated before. But his was way more potent in the scent department. It turned her stomach. It would be a while before she could ever truly accept that smell.

Her sheets would need to be changed at some point this same day. Right now, though, she stepped into the running water on full heat. Gods, but even lifting her feet up to step over the tub side was painful.

Would she always be this way the morning after? If so, what was the point? Why did humans have this instinctual need if it hurt so damn much?

That was her thought when the bathroom door opened up.

"Oh, sweet!" he rejoiced from the other side of the curtain. "Mind if I join you?"

She didn't get the chance to answer. He just let himself into the shower and started rinsing off in the over spray coming around her body. She crept back, trying to keep some distance, not ready for his presence so soon. Certainly not ready for his naked presence.

Despite the pain she still felt, her body reacted to his once again. Her eyes traveled his arms as he stepped into the free flow of the shower head that she had just vacated. Her gaze traveled lower to his still hardened nipples, and lower still to his crotch. The evidence of what they had done started to leave that area as water ran over him. The sight of the white pasty excretions made her nausea return, and she had to look away again.

He must have finally opened his eyes, because he was suddenly sounding quite worried. His hands gripped her shoulders and turned her around.

"Oh, no! Did I hurt you? Is that my fault?"

"I was bruised before we got here, dummy," she grumbled back. "Remember?"

"I know that. I meant that!"

She looked down at herself where his finger pointed at her thighs. There was a little trickle of blood there. That answered why she still hurt.

"Yeah. You did that," she answered bluntly.

"Shit." He looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry. I thought... I thought that was a myth."

"Not entirely. But, I expected it."

"So... You're not mad?"

"I'm mad that you invaded the bathroom."

"Oh."

They stood there in silence for just a few seconds before she decided to reach for the shampoo. He snatched it from her grasp and put some in his palm.

"I was using that..." she glared at him again.

"And you still are," he shrugged. "Turn around."

"I want to wash my hair."

"I'm going to wash it for you. Now, will you let me help you?"

With a sigh and roll of her eyes, she did as he told her.

Damn, his fingers worked miracles on the headache she didn't even know she had a few seconds prior. Water. She needed to drink some water. And eat something.

"I really didn't mean to hurt you, you know?" he asked quietly.

"I know. I'll heal up. No worries. Are you okay?"

He paused in rinsing her hair, thinking. "Not really. It felt amazing. I want more, but I don't want to keep hurting you to get it."

"I told you, I'll be fine. It won't happen any more after a few more times."

"But that means you'll be hurt a few more times."

"It's okay."

"No. It's not okay. I don't like it when you get hurt. I should have done something to prevent that."

"You couldn't prevent it if you tried. It's okay. Now, come on, let's just finish up before the water gets cold. I want to get some breakfast."

They rushed through their routines, getting their socks mixed up in the process. She felt strange with the extra large socks. He felt pinched in the ankle socks, and knew she would be mad at him for stretching them out. But there was no time. Alarms were sounding. They had to run hard and fast.

He could see she was struggling to keep up. Pain made movement awkward. Even at a dead run down the hall, he could see that her hips swayed a bit more than they ever had before. Would she be alright to pilot?


End file.
